


Vendetta

by glitzyena



Category: IZONE (Band)
Genre: Alternate Universe, Alternate Universe - Demons, Alternate Universe - Horror, Amputation, Blood and Gore, Brainwashing, Bullying, F/F, Horror, Implied/Referenced Brainwashing, Knives, Murder, Poisoning, References to Depression, Religion, Religious Imagery & Symbolism, Revenge, Violence
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-06-05
Updated: 2020-06-05
Packaged: 2021-03-03 03:14:07
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings, Graphic Depictions Of Violence
Chapters: 1
Words: 14,637
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/24497758
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/glitzyena/pseuds/glitzyena
Summary: "I'll make you divine,"For better or for worse, Yuri's life is in the palm of Yena's hand. And at this stage, Yuri doesn't think she cares anymore.Based on oh my god by (g)i-dle.
Relationships: Choi Yena/Jo Yuri
Comments: 1
Kudos: 25





	Vendetta

**Author's Note:**

> hi everyone! this story is based on oh my god by idle, which is a bop and a half if you've never heard it before, and if you have heard it and seen the mv, you'll know it deals with a lot of religious themes, which is what this story has too. this story is violent, it's dark, there's gonna be lots of not-nice things so take care before reading! with all that out of the way, hope you guys enjoy!
> 
> [my twitter!](https://mobile.twitter.com/glitzyena)  
> 

There's whispering.

Hissing.

Hushed words spoken underneath breath that Yuri pretends go unnoticed to her.

Gripping tighter at the strap of her schoolbag, she keeps her head low, keeping her footsteps brisk as the soles of her shoes echo off the walls of the corridor. It's the early morning, just before class, and Yuri's hoping that after the past couple of days, everyone will be too swamped up in schoolwork and study to pay attention to anything outside of their own social circles. The school building is dreary in the morning, grey with misery with condensation clinging to the window panes. It gives a closed-off impression, that they can't really see anything that goes on outside, almost like a cage.

The whispering grows louder, pricking at Yuri's ear similar to how a needle would, not so painful that it requires attention, but enough to make her wince. Her phone buzzes in the pocket of her blazer. She ignores it.

Yuri continues to walk, refusing to look upwards, very much interested in the dingy, carpeted floor. She can feel the stares burning holes inside her body, causing her to hunch up as a desperate attempt to hide herself in plain sight. She just keeps walking, ignoring the odd snicker and brushing her blonde hair over her shoulder as an attempt at hiding her face.

Somewhere, a camera flashes. Yuri's phone buzzes again.

Finally making it to her locker, Yuri's bag slips from her shoulder and falls to the ground, keying in her passcode and opening up the door quickly. She ducks her head inside it, pretending to be sorting through her textbooks, in reality just trying to find an excuse to hide her face. Breathing out a soft sigh of relief, Yuri tries her best to gather herself, leafing through the chaotic mess that is her mind to try and achieve some sort of order.

 _Just calm down_. She thinks to herself. _People have moved on, it's all in your head._

Breathing in the musty scent of plastic-bound books once more, Yuri pulls away from her locker, shutting it before fumbling with her lock to ensure that it's secured. She stares at the door, for a moment, her hand lingering on her lock, not all too desperate to turn around and face whatever's behind her back. She grits her teeth together, giving her neck a sharp tilt almost to compose herself, before letting go of the lock and turning around.

And for a few moments, everything is alright. People whisper and throw her odd looks, although for the past couple days it's almost become nothing out of the ordinary anymore. Yuri allows herself to raise her head the slightest bit, the curtain of hair draping over her face now falling down her back.

"Hey, Jo Yuri!"

Chills run down Yuri's spine. She freezes on the spot.

Her mind becomes completely mangled once more, thoughts whirring and racing in front of her eyes so fast she can hardly decipher one from the other. Feeling like she'd just swallowed a large stone, her stomach drops like she'd just hit the climax of a roller coaster, and slowly, she turns in the direction of the voice that had called out her.

She's faced with a small cluster of students, gathered together by the edge of the row of lockers, at the other end that Yuri's on. They shift amongst themselves restlessly, sharing, sly, fox-like grins that stretch their faces apart to bare white teeth. One of them is pushed to the front by the others, a tall boy with a chiselled jaw and faint stubble that Yuri's sure he refuses to shave, eyes wild and poised like a tiger in the long grass.

Yuri knows what's coming, so even though there's no really getting out of a situation like this, she gives them a curt nod, pressing her lips together and turning to walk in the other direction.

"What, you're just not gonna let me speak?" his voice comes out a bit more aggressive this time.

Even though she knows he can't see her face, she shakes her head.

"I just wanted to know if kneeling at the pews felt the same as being on your knees for my friend here?" an uproar of laughter ensues, just before an extra remark of "You've clearly got experience in both fields!" is added.

Yuri tenses up, for a brief moment unable to move, all eyes on her once more. Curious stares from behind stacks of books, over the small frames of glasses, words hushed behind cupped palms in front of ears. She drowns in it all, feels it slithering up her body in a sickeningly nauseating manner, sliding down her throat and making itself at home there, clogging up her oesophagus and spreading itself beneath her skin.

The sensation is quickly mixed in with her sheer, sudden need to remove herself from the situation, and she forces her limbs to move, ignoring way her feet work against her like she's wading through thick mud. There's more jeering, more insults, more vulgar images that coat her like a thick smear of paint, colouring her dark and making her stand out in the worst way possible amongst the crowd.

Yuri eventually manages to make it to the bathroom, stumbling inside and shutting the door behind her, breathes heavy and much too sharp. Her chest is tight, closing in on her heart and threatening to puncture as she lumbers over to the sink.

She doesn't realise that she's crying until she catches sight of her reflection. Damp and red, her cheeks are flushed with discomfiture and humiliation. Her breath rattles, creating small patches of fog on the mirror's surface when she leans in close to inspect herself. Shaking her head abruptly, she turns on the tap, doing her best to block out the rush of words that rush around inside her head to the side. She vainly tries to slow down her breathing, but no matter what she does, her chest is still too tight, and breathing all of a sudden seems like the hardest task she's ever been set.

Her face contorts into something dreadful, lips curling into an ugly sneer as she pushes her hands beneath the frigid water that flows from the tap. The liquid licks at her hot skin, but the impression of the paint on her flesh, of the mud at her ankles, still crawls and worms beneath her skin. Desperate, she rubs her hands together roughly, almost as if to wash the feeling away. But like always, no matter how much she douses herself in water, no matter how hot or cold it is, no matter how much soap she uses, Yuri still feels as though everything sticks to her in a blubbery layer of grime.

She rubs her skin raw, until the pale skin of her hands shines ruby red and begins to show signs of peeling. The abraded skin pleads at her to stop as it's doused in the water, but it's only when faint shades of red begin to taint the sink that Yuri's jolted back to reality.

Stumbling backwards in shock, her mouth opens and closes repeatedly, gaze flickering from her hands, to the sink, and back again. She checks her reflection. She's still crying.

_I just wanted to know if kneeling at the pews felt the same as being on your knees for my friend here._

Yuri still feels disgusting too.

The silence is unbearable.

It screams in Yuri's ears, drowns her in its arms and tugs at her insistently. It amplifies each small sound she makes, ensnaring it in its clutches, almost as if to use it against her later on. The sun, low in the sky, filters through the large stained glass windows, casting deep hues of red onto the church's interior, bathing the pews in ruby red light and spilling scarlet onto the altar.

Her knees dig into the worn-down padding of the tuffet, her elbows propped up on the pew in front of her with her hands clasped. Her eyes are shut, lips moving around silent vowels and consonants that she screams inside her head. Her body aches from being in the same, stiff position for so long, muscles groaning in protest each time she shifts ever so slightly, joints rusted. Her elbows and knees are dusted plum and currant, and in her mind all she sees is darkness. She keeps pleading, begging, to see that sliver of light at the end of the tunnel, but all she feels is that sickening sensation slither its way around her wrists, her neck, pinning her down and restricting her.

Yuri rests her forehead against her clasped hands before letting her eyelids flutter open, the dusty evening light causing her squint before she can adjust to it. With shaky knees, she manages to gather herself to her feet, gripping onto the back of the pew in front of her for support as she steadies herself. Still blinking, she looks down at her hands, all the blood having rushed to the surface of her palms after she'd had them clasped together for so long. There's small, curved red lines that punctuate each of her knuckles, and realises that she'd been subconsciously digging her fingernails into the tender skin. Swallowing, she drops her hands to her sides, ignoring the way the flesh stings with a dull pain.

Even though her body protests against it, Yuri bows on one knee upon shuffling out of the pew, gripping onto the edge of it and using it as leverage to help herself back up again. Without looking back, she begins to briskly walk down the aisle, wrapping her arms around her own waist. She keeps her eyes on the polished wooden floor, watching as the ground is plunged into red, disappearing just as quick, and the process repeating itself.

It's at the moment that Yuri steps outside into the humid, sticky evening heat, that the church bells ring. The deep sounds call for attention, low and almost daunting.

Yuri frowns to herself, checking the watch on her wrist. It's only quarter to six, meaning the Angelus is early.

The Angelus is never early.

"Hello,"

Yuri flinches with a start, gaze snapping away from the bell tower. Her eyes immediately fall on a person, a girl, who can't be much older than her, peering at her with unabashed curiosity. Yuri swears no one else was here. It was like the girl had appeared out of nowhere.

Even in this small town with prying eyes and hands that grab at you when you walk, where everyone knows everything about everyone else, Yuri has never seen this girl before.

Yuri swallows down her surprise, blinking rapidly to retain her focus. The church bells continue to ring adamantly. "...Hi," she finally responds. When the girl doesn't say anything back, Yuri gestures towards the inside of the church. "If you want to go inside, you're welcome to. The church is open to anyone,"

The girl brakes eye contact then, in favour of giving the tall, brown building a once-over. A sort of amused smile plays on her lips. She stuffs her hands into the pockets of her jeans, black and ripped, and Yuri registers that it's the only colour she's wearing. "Not quite everyone," she says. Her voice is sweet, yet with husky undertones. The sound is a contrast like vodka and syrup.

Yuri shudders, trying to block the memory of the taste that blooms on her tongue. She returns her attention to the girl and her strange reply. "What do you mean?"

The girl gives her a sort of smug look, and for a brief moment, dread washes over Yuri like a wave of despair. Her throat closes up, chest tightening around her heart, and she takes a small step back. _She knows, she knows who you are, she knows what you've done, she-_

The girl reaches out and touches the cold, stone exterior of the church.

Yuri doesn't really know how to describe it, what happens. The air becomes tense, like she's been bathed in static electricity, her skin pricking and the hairs on her arms standing on end. It's only for a brief moment, but it's strong and impactful, and it's enough to gouge a small gasp from her lips and make her take another step back. On instinct, she wraps her arms around herself, staring at the girl in shock.

The girl retracts her finger. The tip smokes, small thin wisps wafting into the air. The skin is bright pink in colour.

Yuri's eyebrows knit in concern, concern immediately overcoming her sense of confusion. "Are you alright?" she asks, taking the steps forward that she'd previously taken back. Her gaze darts from the girl's finger to the church building, mind whirring as to how that could have happened. She knows it's hot out, but it's not hot enough to _burn_.

The church bells stop ringing.

The girl smiles at her dryly, shaking out her finger with a brief grimace. "Oh, I'm fine," she replies, strange as she was before, but Yuri finds herself itching to find out more. She gives the church another once-over, before dusting herself off with a sigh of closure. "The church isn't as nice to you as it is to me," she tilts her head. "But maybe you're like me, in a sense,"

Yuri doesn't know what she's talking about. But, she stays.

The girl sticks out her hand, smiling at her, and-

Oh.

Oh, dear.

Yuri sucks in a breath. She's beautiful.

It isn't an archetypal beauty. It's almost demanding, drawing in attention, brooding and composed and Yuri could go on and on but she catches herself staring. She gingerly reaches out her hand, letting it linger in between them for a few moments, before giving in and gripping the girl's hand. Yuri doesn't really know what she expects, static electricity, a lapse in gravity, an explosion, but she's tentative for some reason.

But, nothing happens. The girl holds her hand gently, shakes it twice and then lets it go.

"I'm Yena, you?"

"Yena," Yuri says her name aloud without even realising it. She shakes her head. "I'm Yuri,"

"Yuri," Yena repeats her name aloud just like Yuri had done. It makes Yuri smile. "Walk with me?"   
  
  
  
  
  


  
  
  
  
  
  


"I've never seen you around here before," Yuri takes the chance in striking up a conversation.

"I'm here on a bit of a break, I suppose. I live in the city, I think I just needed a getaway,"

"Why choose here?"

"I don't know," Yena is smiling. Yuri decides that she likes how it looks on her. "But I think now that I might stay,"  
  
  
  
  
  


  
  
  
  
  
  


"And it's just like no one ever really got me, you know?"

"I do, yeah," Yuri nods in agreement. "I do know,"  
  
  
  
  
  


  
  
  
  
  
  


"I don't think anyone's really got me the way you do,"

Yena looks at her with an expression akin to awe. Yuri doesn't think she's ever been looked at like that before. "I was... literally just about to say the same thing. I barely know you but it's like..." she trails off, unable to put a word to it.

Yuri knows what she means regardless.   
  
  
  
  
  


  
  
  
  
  
  


"Thank you so much for showing me around. I would've gotten lost if it weren't for you,"

Yuri's cheeks flush. "It's a small town, I'm sure you would have been fine," she looks up from her shoes to meet Yena's gaze. "But I'm... glad I got to be the one to show it to you,"

"Me too,"

"I'll see you again, won't I?"

"Is tomorrow too soon for you?"

Yuri's heart soars. "Not at all,"

"Then tomorrow, I'll see you at some point. I'll find you, don't worry,"   
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  


  
  
  
  
  
  


"Yena!" Yuri calls out to Yena's retreating back. She'd watched her go, watch her slowly melt into the shadows, but something inside of her itched as she watched the girl go.

Yena turns from where she's stood at the far end of the street, lips drawn together in question as she tilts her head. The tangerine light of the streetlamp over her head bears down on her harshly, but her skin seems to suck in the light and disperse it with a soft glow.

The words get caught in Yuri's throat, at first, but she forces them out. "Why can't you go inside the church?"

Yena's gaze darkens, the orange hues flooding from her system and leaving her eyes as pools of lead. She begins to walk backwards, slow, languid steps, and Yuri can't take her eyes off of her.

"Whatever bad you think you've done, I've done worse,"

It's oddly silent when Yuri walks into her classroom the next day. It's too quiet.

Peering around curiously, she checks for people's different reactions to try and gauge any sort of information out of them, despite the fact that most people avoid her gaze the moment she lays eyes on them. Yuri purses her lips. Not everyone in this room is a bad person, she knows that. She doesn't mind, she too, doesn't think she'd have the courage to stand up for someone if it meant risking her own neck, making herself a target.

The same group of students that had jeered at her are stood by the windows in the back corner, huddled together as usual, and... leaving her alone. One of the girls turns to look at her, simply blinks at her for a moment or two, before returning to her conversation. Yuri stands at the edge of the teeming rows of desks, gripping tightly at the straps of her schoolbag.

She's suspicious.

It's too good to be true. They never do anything like this, they must be leering her into a false sense of hope.

Tentatively, she shuffles through the row of desks towards the back (the teacher always put her at the back because she never talks during class. Never has anyone to talk to), people still stealing glances at her when they're sure she isn't looking. Yuri catches her seatmate looking, however, like she wants Yuri to see her, and- ah.

Her face. It's got sympathy written all over it.

So something is up.

Yuri looks away from her seatmate, the sympathy not really sitting well with her when it's really not that sincere, and makes a move to put her bag on her desk to take out her books. Maybe take the opportunity and fit in some reading before the teacher walks in since people are leaving her alone for the time being.

Yuri shrugs her bag off her shoulder, and stops dead in her tracks. The bag falls to the floor with a soft _thud_.

Her desk has been covered in scrawling black marks, words and phrases written in bold ink, derogatory and vulgar and they make Yuri sick to the stomach. She's lightheaded as she approaches the desk, unable to stop her eyes from tracing over each and every single letter, her curiosity getting the better of her. She doesn't move, doesn't say anything, as more and more turn to look at her, noticing her finally taking note of what had been done.

It's all the usual stuff, but having it here, in front of her, in physical form, makes it sting that bit more than usual. Wishes for her death, single-word blows like _bitch, whore_ , a small dare in the top right hand corner for her to video herself drowning, followed by a smiley face. Requests so carnal and obscene Yuri can't even begin to think about them. Her heart seems to race inside her chest, and at the same time pumping much too slow, her breathing becoming short. The curious eyes burn holes inside of her, Yuri able to feel each one of them as her own eyes dart races around the surface of the desk.

Everyone in this room. They knew. Shit, they probably watched as they were written.

Too afraid to look up, Yuri desperately bundles the hem of the sleeve of her school jumper into her fist, wiping frantically at the table with the navy fabric. She rubs, and she rubs hard, but no matter how much she tries, the ink hardly even smudges.

"It's permanent," her seatmate next to her whispers, the girl's head down so that no one will suspect anything of her. Yuri resists the urge to scoff, because yeah, she got that.

Her phone buzzes in her blazer pocket. Everyone in the room hears it.

Slowly, Yuri raises her eyes to the group stood in the back corner. They've turned to look at her now, sly smirks smeared on their lips, sniggers and snickers thrown amongst each other.

With everyone looking at her, Yuri reaches inside her blazer to produce her phone. A notification sits patiently on her home screen, an Instagram message from one of the girls in the group. With quivering fingertips, Yuri unlocks her phone and opens it up. The picture is a picture of the girl who'd sent it to her, a selfie with Yuri herself in the background, staring at her desk in shock. The girl is unfairly beautiful, though most of them are in that group, eyebrows sharp and cheekbones defined. She's simpering, and she's - Yuri frowns - holding a fan of won notes. The picture times out, and another message pops into the chat.

_Thanks for hitting 75k. You won me a bet :)_

Yuri's mouth runs dry.

Seventy-five thousand views.

Without a word, she leaves the classroom, stumbling over her schoolbag that she'd dropped in her haste.   
  
  
  
  
  


  
  
  
  
  
  


Yuri runs into the bathroom, the tears in her eyes making her vision hazy, pushing open the heavy door and letting it swing shut behind her. The cool, white room seems to have a calming effect on her, but it does nothing to calm the bubbling, frothing mix of emotions that churn inside of her. She can't even pinpoint one specific emotion that she's feeling, it's just this large blur of negativity in front of her eyes that seems to want to tear her apart from the inside out.

Her legs somehow manage to carry her over to the sink again, and Yuri smiles bitterly to herself.

God, she always ends up here.

She looks her reflection in the eye for a moment before turning on the tap, cupping her hands and shoving them beneath the cool liquid. She splashes the water onto her face, almost like a bit of a wake-up call. She grips at the edge of the sink, face parallel with the floor, and just lets the water drip from her face for a few minutes. She tries to empty her mind, not to think of anything, but like usual, there's so many things running around inside her head that she can't pick one apart from another. How can she manage anything if she can't even figure out what her own emotions are?

Eventually Yuri looks up, preparing herself for the worst for when she sees her own reflection again. Her eyes meet her mirror image's, and... someone else's.

What the fuck?

Yuri turns around sharply, and she's face to face with Yena.

Yuri just stares at her with complete and utter perplexity, eyes racing over her form, because there's simply no way. "I-" she blinks rapidly, thinking that this is her mind's bizarre way of coping with the situation. "How are you here right now? What are- what?"

Yena's expression is laced with concern. "I told you I'd find you, didn't I?" she says it like it's obvious. "What happened to you? Did someone hurt you?" her hand slowly begins to inch its way up towards Yuri's face, and Yuri watches it intently.

Her senses become smothered with Yena and her presence, her muddled brain and her thoughts suddenly honing in on her, and she's so overcome by everything that she becomes even more confused than before.

"Yuri," Yena's tone is more serious than before.

Yuri shakes her head, knowing that if she opens her mouth nothing will come out other than a choked out sob. She squeezes her eyes shut, because everything is just too much.

"Someone hurt you," it isn't a question this time. Yena says it with finality, voice rough around the edges and it sends tremors down Yuri's spine, right through to her fingertips.

They stand there, for a few moments, Yena's hand lingering just above Yuri's jaw, almost tentative, silent tears squeezing their way out of Yuri's ducts and running quiet tracks down her flushed cheeks. Her breathing is uneven, and every so often a long, loud shaky inhale of breath punctuates the stillness of the room.

Yena's even closer than before now. Even though they're around the same height, Yuri feels as though she's towering over her. She feels oddly... _safe_. Secure. She tries her best to match her breathing with Yena's controlled inhales and exhales, slowly but surely becoming calmer.

Yena finally rests her palm on Yuri's cheek. Her touch is so, so soft.

"Can I do something really crazy?"

Yuri doesn't really know what's going on, but she finds herself nodding her head, leaning into Yena's touch.

Yena leans in, and time seems to slow.

God, what's even going on?

Yuri finds herself staring at Yena drowsily, eyelids becoming heavy with each time she blinks, her vision blurring at the edges, and her thoughts begin to fade from her head.

When Yena kisses her, she becomes totally sated.

"This is your place?"

Yuri takes extra care to step over a bloomed flower of emerald glass shards that had blossomed on the side of the pavement, the stench of something sharp invading her senses. She grips onto Yena's hand tight as the older girl guides her through the dark, trusting her entirely to keep her safe. They're near the edge of the town, on the rougher side, where lies run rampant and trust lies bare. Yuri can't imagine why Yena would choose to come here for her getaway from the city.

"I've always wanted to live simply," is the excuse Yena provides her with. "I was well off growing up, but it wasn't really for me," They come to a stop in front of a small, one story building, made of crumbling stone brick with dusty window panes. Yuri hears the jangle of keys as Yena produces them from the pocket of her leather jacket, dark hair falling in gentle wisps over her eyes as she leans down to slot one of the keys into the lock.

Inside the place Yena's renting out is cold, musty. The furniture is the bare minimum, and decoration is slim to none. Although, Yuri supposes, she's only really just arrived here, and large department stores that sell such things are a long drive off, and a bit of a waste of time if Yena isn't going to be staying here very long.

The thought alone is enough to make Yuri's heart sink. Even though she doesn't really know Yena that well at all, this is only what, their third day knowing each other? The idea of being without her, of being an outcast again, doesn't sit well with her at all. Then again, this place has the eyes of a hawk and the ears of a bat, and word spreads faster than wildfire, and even though Yena isn't in school, Yuri doesn't doubt that the word of what she did will take very long to reach her. The thought makes Yuri shudder. She'll have to tell Yena, eventually, herself, because she can't have some bizarre, twisted version of the story change Yena's mind about her before the truth does.

But, for now, ignorance is bliss. Yuri doesn't know for how long she's going to push away the truth for, but for now she's going to pretend it doesn't even exist.

Yena leads her into what Yuri assumes is the front room, there's a couch and an armchair and a coffee table, yet without a television. The lighting is dim, Yena excusing the electricity for not being great. "My parents stopped sending me money once they'd decided I'd fucked enough shit up," Yena had explained to her. "And it's not that easy to get hired with all that competition in the city, so I'm trying to make do. I think they're better off pretending I don't exist, to be honest. I've got an older brother, literally the image of the image of what they want in a perfect child, I don't even know why they had me in the first place," she had frowned. "Come to think of it, I was probably a mistake, those insatiable fucks," she'd muttered that last part under her breath, making Yuri laugh.

And Yena is _fun_. She's fun and she's witty and she's daring and she's everything that Yuri isn't which just makes her admire her even more. She's got a dangerous edge to her, something mysterious and dark that Yuri can't quite put her finger on, but it makes her more drawn to her regardless.

"You can sit anywhere," Yena gestures around the room vaguely, ruffling at her hair. "Just... do as you would as if it were your place. I'll fix us up some coffee or something,"

They're sitting down together in no time, steaming mugs cupped in their palms, and Yuri is positively captivated. Without even realising it she's staring, and she has to force herself to look away once Yena starts to speak.

"Yesterday," she begins. "At your school. What happened?"

Yuri blinks at her in surprise. That hadn't been how she'd expected this conversation to go, but simply because it's Yena who asks her, she responds. "My uh, my classmates aren't very fond of me," she explains sheepishly. " _Really_ not very fond of me. They say shit from time to time that just... gets inside my head, I guess,"

Yena frowns, concerned, leaning forward in her chair. "How come?" she looks genuinely surprised that someone could be mean to her, and the thought makes Yuri's heart twist in on itself. But still, she smiles, a mixture of sheepish and bitter.

"Isn't it obvious?" she tucks her shoulders up to her ears, subconsciously making herself appear smaller without even realising it. "I'm easy to pick on, an easy target. They know I'm too weak to stand up for myself, and they get a kick out of it, so," she wrings her hands together on her lap.

Yena raises a brow. "And why don't you? Stand up for yourself, I mean?"

Yuri smiles that same smile again, still refusing to meet Yena's eyes and opting to stare at her lap instead. "I'm not brave like you," her voice comes out quieter than intended. "I psych myself out with what-ifs. There's so many of them and only one of me that I just know they'd torment me further if I tried anything and..." she trails off, spacing out for a brief moment before reigning in her thoughts again. "And I can't let things get any worse than they are right now,"

She looks up at Yena then, and her expression is almost... blissful.

_Ignorance is bliss._

Yena stands up, looking a little out of it, looking at Yuri as if she isn't even there. Her eyes are hazy, and her lips are parted unknowingly.

Yuri blinks up at her, worried. "Are you alright?"

"No, yeah, I'm fine," Yena brushes her off, placing her palm to her forehead. "I'm good, actually, I just can't believe they'd do that to someone like you," she shakes her head out a little, almost like there were something caught in her ear and she's trying to get rid of it. "Don't you feel... I don't know, angry, towards them? For making you feel like this?"

Yuri smiles up at her. "Maybe that's why I like you so much," she admits. "I know you would. I know you wouldn't let them do to you what I let them do to me, but..." she draws one leg into her chest, propping her chin on top of her knee. "But I'm just afraid of them, really,"

Yena crouches down in front of her, so that their at eye level with one another, so close Yuri can see the faintest splash of freckles on her nose. "So there's not one bit of anger inside of you? Not one part of you that wishes that maybe they'd get in return what they'd done to you?"

Yuri thinks about it, as much as her mind will allow her with a Yena in such close proximity. Swallowing, she allows her mind to wander. It would be nice, she supposes, to be in someone else's shoes today, and what's happening to her being placed upon their shoulders... well, Yuri supposed what goes around comes around, and is only inevitable that one day, they receive punishment for their wrongdoings.

"I mean... maybe a small bit," she whispers, and Yena's gaze thickens. The older girl leans in that small bit closer, just enough for their lips to touch.

Yuri's always read and heard how it's a myth that when you kiss someone, sparks go off. That you hear fireworks, that you see stars. She can say now that they're wrong, because when Yena kisses her, when she draws her closer and cradles her cheek, she doesn't just see stars - she sees an entire fucking universe. Her skin tingles and her insides bubble with excitement and anticipation and it's just... every time Yuri's with her, it's like everything bad that's ever happened just fades into nothingness.

Amidst their kiss, Yena slides her hand down Yuri's arm, making her shudder. She moves all the way down to Yuri's hand where she slips something small into the palm of her hand.

Yuri pulls away, just a fraction, not all too sure that she'd be able to move away any more. She opens the palm of her hand, looking down at it to see what Yena had given her. It's a small vial of clear liquid, capped with a black lid, and the liquid shimmers almost menacingly in the low light. "What is it?"

Yena doesn't pull away either, rather brushing her nose against Yuri's cheek. "What those people deserve," she whispers. "It's up to you whether you use it or not. You're in control,"

Yuri looks back at her hesitantly. "What does it do?" Her voice is shaky, she realises, and there's so many factors as to why that could be, but Yena herself is the most prominent.

Yena simply places a finger to her lips, smile one-sided. "Whatever you see fit,"

It's the fifth time that the girl coughs that people begin to take notice.

She holds up a hand to the other people sat at the same table as her, silently asking for a moment as she heaves into her fist again, someone scrambling with their schoolbag before handing her a pack of tissues. She takes them with a nod, taking one out of the packet and placing it to her lips. More people from different tables turn in their seats to look over their shoulders to see what's causing all the commotion.

The girl's friends pat her gently on the back and ask her if she's okay, concern etched into their usually concern-free faces. The girl waves them off, coughing to the side before finally deeming it safe to take the tissue away from her mouth. She returns to the conversation again, clearing her throat and rubbing at her trachea almost as if it'll get rid of the persistent itch. She clears her throat again, clearly trying to not draw any attention to herself again, but it doesn't go unnoticed by the boy sitting next to her. He leans down to match her height, eyebrows furrowed as he talks into her ear, presumably to ask her again if she's okay.

For a brief moment, she nods. Then, she seems to change her mind. Shaking her head rapidly, the girl scrambles for the tissues again, practically ripping one out of the plastic wrapping and lurching into it, hacking another raw sound from inside of her. It seems painful, her eyes screwed shut as people turn to look again, some looking completely bewildered at the bizarre scene, others sharing amused quirks of lips.

Her friends all turn to stare at her again, now looking genuinely worried, but the girl is too gone out of it to pay their disquiets any mind. She's bending so far over that she's disappeared from view beneath the table, her hair falling over her face as her shoulder blades contort into painful looking positions. The boy next to her tentatively smooths the palm of his hand over her back, looking around at his friends for advice on what to do.

The girl straightens up again, shaky, fingertips quaking as she retracts the tissue she'd been gripping away from her lips.

It's coated in scarlet.

At the sight of the blood, the girl's sickly looking face somehow turns paler, eyes widening as the tissue falls from her grasp, falling soundlessly onto the table. The blood pulls all sorts of reactions from other people at the table, some leaning back in shock, others scrambling to their feet. One girl says something that everyone else at the table seems to agree with, just as she gets on her feet and hastily makes her way out of the cafeteria, in the direction of the nurse's office.

The girl desperately scrambles for another tissue, tearing two out instead of one in her rush as she reels again, a raw, tearing sound ripping from her throat, and some people watching the scene unfold shudder at the sound. The girl attempts to stand up, to which her friends immediately advise her against, but she somehow manages to stumble to her feet, stooped over and hugging at her waist with her free hand. She can stand neither straight nor still, feet stuttering over each other like she were someone who'd just got off a merry-go-round.

Two of her friends rush to her side but seem unsure of what to do, gingerly reaching out but sharing weary looks with one another. By now, there's not a single person in the cafeteria that hasn't caught on to what's going on, all eyes on the girl as she convulses almost violently, muscles too tense as they shift beneath her skin. Blood begins to seep through her fingertips as it soaks through the destroyed layers of tissue in her hand, dripping onto the floor in an inconsistent stream of dark, running red. She drops to her knees, now coughing on each of her exhales, her inhales sharp and much too short. Her friends around her, blocking her from view, casting glares around the large room and delivering threats for people to mind their own business.

Somewhere, in the back corner, Yuri sits alone, watching the situation unfold with a blank expression as two teachers rush into the room. Casting one last look down to the empty glass vial in her palm, she stuffs it inside her pocket before turning back to her food.  
  
  


  
  
  


There's an odd itch in the back of Yuri's mind.

She pretends she doesn't know what it is, but it's obvious.

She's stood in the park, searing white light of the street lamp above her head dousing her in its searing unnatural hue, this night slightly colder than the ones previous. A soft breeze nips impatiently at her cheeks, like a child demanding attention, so she hugs her shoulders to try and retain some heat.

The image of that girl dances around in fronted her eyes, stooped over, tongue lolling uselessly our of her mouth, spitting an endless, sickening mixture of saliva and blood onto the once pristine floor. Her eyes had been screwed shut the entire time, out of both pain and sheer embarrassment, tears sometimes sleeping through her lashes before they were hastily wiped away.

Yuri has mixed feelings on the entire thing. While it feels... good, almost, to have her know what it feels like to be completely humiliated, so be shamed and gawked at like an animal in a cage, the empathy inside of her caused her to feel queasy at the sight of all the blood, at the pain the girl was in.

"Yuri,"

_God._

Yuri closes her eyes and utters whatever prayer comes to mind under her breath to try, to _hope,_ that Yena will just go away.

Even though they _both_ know that that isn't what Yuri wants.

"Yuri? Are you alright?"

Yuri shakes her head. "No. No I'm not alright. I... I'm just so confused,"

A look of realisation dawns on Yena's face. "You gave someone the vial,"

Yuri nods, nibbling at her lower lip. "It was so extreme, and I- I didn't mean to put her through so much pain but it just happened and-"

"Hey, hey slow down," Yena takes a step forward, reaching out to touch Yuri's shoulder. "You know that-"

"No," Yuri takes a step back, leaving Yena's hand lingering outstretched between them. The girl's face falls, but Yuri pushes herself to stay strong. "No, you gave me that- whatever that stuff was. You _knew_ what it would do to her,"

Yena tilts her head to the side, looking confused. "But you were the one that gave it to her," her tone isn't accusing, or sharp, but rather like she's stating a common fact. "I thought you made your decision. You were never forced to give it to her,"

And Yuri knows. Yuri knows that at the end of the day, she was the one who slipped the stuff into that girl's drink, knowing that there would be consequences. Her face crumbles, and she hangs her head low. "I'm just... I'm so afraid, Yena. I can't force punishment onto people, I can't play God,"

Yena comes close to her then, and Yuri doesn't protest against it when she wraps her arms around her, hugging Yuri close. "You don't have to be afraid, not anymore. As long as you're with me, you'll be safe. I promise,"

And Yuri hasn't heard someone say that to her in so fucking long. So, blindly, she falls.  
  
  
  


Yuri thinks she's in love.

She frowns up at the ceiling from where she's lain on her bed. She's never been in love before, not really, and it's not really how she'd imagined how it would be. She's spent countless hours laying awake at night, imagining how it would go, how she'd feel, what the other person would be like, how she'd know at once if they were the one. Picturing each and every detail inside her head, giggling as she hugged her pillow to her chest when she imagined the sensation of being wanted, being needed, being _loved._

But it isn't like that at all.

It wasn't just a single moment when Yuri falls. In fact, she's not really too sure at which point she could actually call it love and cross out affection, all she knows is that she's in too far to stop. She's in so far now that it physically aches, and the pain and the hurting had never been something she'd been told came with the good side of love.

One thing her younger self had naively never anticipated was not being loved in return.

Yena doesn't love her, Yuri knows that.

And continuously falling back into her arms, running back to her, it's doing her no good, she's more than aware. But a pattern that Yuri's beginning to take notice of in terms of herself is that she literally doesn't care.

So what if Yena doesn't see her as anything more than a... well, Yuri doesn't really know what the other girl sees her as. That's how thick wall is between them, Yuri doesn't know what Yena is thinking half the time, is constantly second guessing herself with what's going on inside her head. But even though for Yuri, it's like there's miles between them, having to squint to even see a fraction of what's Yena's seeing, it's like for Yena she's encircling her the way a lion would their prey, worming her way inside of Yuri's head and making herself at home there, constantly whispering inside her ear even when she isn't there.

Realistically, Yuri knows that Yena is playing with her, that she'll regret it, but the way Yena makes her feel, the way she feels _without_ Yena, makes all of that shit worth it.

Yuri sits up, blinking drowsily in the afternoon light. The streams of gold filtering in through her blinds don't quite reach her, just barely brushing against her toes, and it burns slightly. She retracts her feet, pulling her knees into her chest, peering at the light curiously. She doesn't think she's ever shyed away from the light like that. She doesn't think the light has ever treated her so harshly before.

A cold feeling of unsettlement washes over her, and she gathers herself to her feet.   
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  


Yuri runs her way up the hill, chest burning and legs aching and mind a chaotic disarray.

She makes it to the church in record time, the tall, grey building looking calm and controlled in the low evening light. Yuri allows herself time to breathe momentarily, resting her hands on her knees as she stoops over.

After allowing herself a few moments to regain herself, she stands up straighter, taking slow steps in the church's direction. It's generally quiet, despite the time, yet somehow by the church it nearly always is, distant trundling of car engines coming from far off and chirping birds creating a soft, lilting atmosphere. The dust from the tarmac kicks up softly with each step that Yuri takes, making the area hazy, and usually the entire thing would be enough to put her to sleep. To soothe her insides like pouring cool water over burned flesh, like stepping into the arms of a warm hug. It's calm.

Yuri stops in front of the church's entrance. She can see inside, through the glass doors, the dust particles wafting gently through the red beams of light from the stained glass windows, the usual scarlet spilling over the altar and the pews void of people.

Yuri takes another step forward, and the church bells begin to ring out.

Flinching in surprise, Yuri takes a step back, gaze automatically drawn towards to belltower. The bells are loud from this close, deafeningly so, the fading of each dull ring causing he ears to fizz as the vapid knells fade before another batch comes along.

Hastily, Yuri fishes out her phone, switching it on, the home screen flashing in front of her eyes.

It's half past six.

The Angelus is late.

The Angelus is never late.

Swallowing tentatively, Yuri takes another step forward, and the bells only seem to grow louder. She reaches out, excruciatingly slow, stopping just before the tips of her fingers breach the church's entrance, and then, all at once, shoving her hand past the open set of large double doors.

The pain is indescribable. Yuri honestly thinks there aren't any words for it other than excruciating, the burning sensation like what Yuri would expect the pain to be if someone were attempting to char your flesh to the bone. She retracts her hand almost immediately, cradling it to her chest, feeling it throb violently as though the blood in her veins had begun to boil and froth. She grits her teeth together, a string of loudly sworn curses unknowingly tumbling past her lips.

Yuri knows she's there before she even says anything. She can feel her.

Yena stands next to her silently, always there when Yuri needs her most, always conveniently around whenever she's in her highest moments of distress. Carefully, she places a hand on Yuri's shoulder, Yuri herself just silently staring into the church with shock, her skin on fire and too many emotions flooding through her at once.

"Other people don't get us," is what Yena finally says, soft breeze delicately fluttering through her hair, standing in the church's shadow. "They don't understand you, what you've gone through,"

Yuri turns to look at her, and she can't even imagine what kind of expression she has on her face. "When will it stop?" She feels pathetic, blubbering our her words and salty tears sitting on the apples of her cheeks. "The pain, does it ever go away?"

Yena reaches her hand out to Yuri's other shoulder, drawing her close to her and gently cupping the back of Yuri's head with her other hand, allowing Yuri to breathe in the comforting scent of her neck. She smells like citrus, sweet yet with a sharp tang. "I'll make it go away. For you. I promise,"

So many promises. And Yuri believes her so bad.

The streets are mainly silent as Yuri walks, dipped in the darkness of the night as her footsteps echo off the hollow street.

Soft, lilting music croons into her ears through her headphones, and she tries to focus on the song as she steps in time with the music. Her school bag is heavy, having to grip it with both hands, full to the brim of books from her evening study sessions, and right now she's so tired she could fall asleep right here on the rough pavement.

She really hasn't been sleeping much these days, Yuri.

She lies awake most nights, limbs splayed out in discomfort as she stares at the ceiling blankly. That constant itch that's in the back of her mind has grown to something more, a longing, a desperation, and she tries so bad to shake it away but it persists. It used to be something she could push to the back of her mind, simply an inconvenience like gum under her shoe, but now it's shoved itself to the very forefront of her prioritises and there's simply no ignoring it.

Yena. When Yena's around, the feeling is gone. Shut down, lulled, completely forgotten about. It's like she's addicted to some drug, anguished in its absence, completely unlike herself, and sated when she has it. But, as soon as it's gone, as soon as she runs out, it's back to how it was before, only twice as bad.

The feeling persists now, as Yuri walks down the quiet street, past empty alleyways and stepping through sections of light and shadow from the street lamps, prodding painfully in her mind that she's missing something, that she _needs_ something. Wanting something, some _one_ , this bad, Yuri assumes, can't be labelled as anything other than love.

She continues down the long, winding streets on her protracted journey home, walking much slower than she usually would. Her movements are sluggish, almost uncaring, as she lets her subconscious take over and steer her the familiar route home.

Then, she senses footsteps, just audible over the soft music in her ears, and her heart _hopes._

Actually no, that's the wrong word to use, Yuri thinks. Her heart _begs_.

But the footsteps multiply into those of more than just one person, sounding more like a large group, and Yuri feels herself deflate. Of all the moments in time, of all the places, of all the mind spaces she's in.

Slowly, she reaches into the pocket of her blazer, discretely turning up the music from her phone.   
Then, she turns it down again. She doesn't want to be taken off guard. It's when she turns the music down that she hears all too familiar caws of her name.

"Yuri!"

The words are slurred slightly, not as coherent as they would be on a school day, and the fact that they're drunk settles chillingly over Yuri. She doesn't know if it's something that'll play to her advantage or to her disadvantage.

They keep calling out her name, jeering and laughing amongst themselves, and eventually she has no choice other than to face them. She's learned the hard way in the past what happens if she doesn't.

She turns around a bit more defiantly than she usually would, she's still afraid, that bone-chilling sensation still floods through her system, but alongside that fear is annoyance. Anger. And while she has no idea where it's come from, it gives her a small bit of confidence in herself. That, and the fact that they're one-man down. The girl who'd coughed up blood in the cafeteria isn't here. And it's _Yuri_ who had done that.

So, she gazes each one of them in the eye, not too long, but long enough that they get the message that things this time could be a little different. She takes her headphones off her ears, letting them rest around her neck.

This seems to amuse the group greatly. "Oooh, you're getting feisty now, are you?" One of them taunts. "Someone slip you something?"

Yuri takes in a breath, and tries to think on her toes for something say in reply. She's never done this before, she's _never_ retaliated, but something inside of her burns mirthlessly and it drives her to open her mouth. "I notice you're one member down," her voice doesn't come out nearly as steady or controlled as she had intended, but it's something. "But you all seem to be doing just fine. So now you're slipping shit into your own crowd's drinks as well,"

The group seem largely taken aback by her sudden comeback, but it doesn't take too long for them to recover. One of the girls narrows her eyes at her, looking her up and down like she usually would. "It was you," she finally accuses, the rest of the group staring at her in surprise, but seeming to agree with her sudden statement. "You're the one who did it, aren't you? God, you're a fucking _witch,_ I _knew_ it,"

Yuri knows that the girl has no evidence to back her statement up, that she's only saying it because it'll be easier for her to manage if she has someone to point a finger at. So, she doesn't allow her words to phase her. The more this girl talks, she realises, the more she herself talks, the more adrenaline that pumps through her veins.

"If I was really a witch, don't you think I would've done something to you by now? Use some common sense some time, it comes in handy,"

The girl glares, taking those few steps towards her to get in her face. The girl is taller than Yuri, and she emphasises it by peering down her nose at her. "Who the fuck do you think you are?" She seethes. "You're a fucking nobody. No one wants you here, no one needs you here, none of us..."

She continues on, keeps talking, keeps throwing insult after insult but Yuri can't hear her anymore. She tilts her head, watching the girl ramble on with boredom more than anything else, really just wishing she would shut up so she can leave and go home.

In fact, Yuri kind of wants to punch her.

She acts before her subconscious can scream at her at how irrational she's being.

Yuri lands the punch square in the middle of the girl's face, feeling her knuckles collide with the bridge of her nose. It's not too hard a punch, Yuri isn't particularly strong, but it's enough to make the girl stop talking, cry out in pain, and for her to clutch her face, stooping over.

The group is in shock, for a moment, gasps and yells spilling from their lips, and everyone, for a few moments, seems to freeze.

And then, they regain their senses, half a dozen pairs of beady eyes tearing through Yuri like they're imagining burning the very ground she stands on.

So, Yuri does what any person in her situation would do.

She turns, and she runs.

The clock strikes midnight once they catch her.

Yuri really doesn't know what she'd imagined would happen. The boys are stronger than her, faster than her, and even if they weren't they still outnumber her six to one. They catch up to her in a matter of seconds, taking her by the arms and hauling her back to them. She struggles, at first, kicks and screams and persists, but she soon comes to realise that it's fruitless. Regardless, one of the boys clamps a hand over her mouth and hisses in her ear to "Stop kicking and screaming like a little bitch.", to which Yuri bitterly complies.

They drag her down the narrow gap between the two small buildings adjacent to them, plunging them into darkness where Yuri can only make out their faint orange outlines from the faint light of the streetlamps outside.

The grip on her left arm tightens threateningly, and a different voice speaks out. "Hey, c'mere,"

Yuri looks up, and sees that his words are directed at the girl who'd she'd punched, both of them lingering towards the back of the group where one of the other girls was tending to her now bleeding nose. A strong streak of pride shoots through Yuri, before she immediately snuffs it out, alarmed, reminding herself that that really isn't something to be proud of.

_Yena would be proud of you._

The thought quells Yuri's nerves, knowing that Yena would approve of her standing up for herself like this. The thought of Yena alone is enough to lessen the tension of the boys' grip on her forearms, enough to sugar-coat the entirety of this situation.

The girl gives him a weird look, the rest of the group turning to look at her. "What..?" she asks hesitantly, eyes flitting from the boy, to Yuri, and back to the boy again. The blood from her nose has stained the red of her lips, making her look like some sort of blood-thirsty vampire. The idea makes the thought of Yuri punching her much easier to stomach.

The boy only gestures her forward again, simply uttering the same word "C'mere," over and over again, until the girl finally gives in and steps forward. She moves to stand in front of Yuri, and looks at her, for a fraction of a moment, before giving in and looking elsewhere.

It dawns on Yuri then, when she isn't the one who looked away first, that she isn't afraid. She isn't scared, she isn't quaking and crying and pleading like she usually would. Sure, it's not an ideal situation to be in, but for some bizarre reason, Yuri's doing okay. She thinks she'd be doing a lot better if Yena were here with her, however.

God, she'd give anything to kiss her right now.

The boy with his hand over her mouth gives her a light shake, and Yuri rolls her eyes. It goes unnoticed to anyone, and he directs his next words at the girl. He tilts his head in Yuri's direction when he speaks.

"Punch her back,"

Yuri's eyes widen slightly. That had been something she hadn't been expecting. It's not the worst outcome, she supposes, but she's known this group longer than to be naive and assume they'll let her go after one measly punch.

The girl, too, seems taken aback, looking at Yuri again with an almost frightened expression. "C'mon, no, guys-"

"Oh, it's only fair," the other boy jumps in, shaking Yuri again. "Look, when are you gonna get an opportunity like this again?" he says, and a low thrum of hums of agreement buzz around the room like a wasp.

The girl locks eyes with Yuri again, and the hesitancy that's written on her face is plain as day. Yuri simply stares at her blankly, blinking, wondering whether or not she has the guts to do it or not. Everyone around them is watching, someone takes out a phone and holds it up, and something inside of Yuri purrs contentedly at the fact that the girl too now has to face the wonderful horrors of peer pressure.

She doesn't look like she wants to punch Yuri, that much is obvious, and Yuri thinks that if the girl hadn't thrown insult after insult at her in the past, she would've felt sorry for her.

But, regardless, the girl clenches her fist, raising it, ignoring the coaxing and urging from the boys. She worries at her lower lip, seeming unable to break away from Yuri's gaze, simply staring at her with a raised fist.

"Go on, do it,"

And punch Yuri, the girl does.

It's fast, so fast Yuri hardly sees the girl's fist flying towards her face. And while it's a fast punch, it's weak, Yuri sure once the faint buzzing sting in her nose has faded that her one was stronger. It leaves her stunned, for a few moments, but she does eventually recover, twitching her nose to get it used to the unfamiliar sensation, and-

And Yuri's okay.

The thought makes her smile behind the boy's hand,and the regretful look on the girl's face is enough to make her snicker. She shouldn't be regretful, Yuri had punched her first, she should be raging to take back what was her. At the faint sounds of laughter, the girl looks appalled, cradling her bright red fist in her other hand, retreating quickly to the back of the group where her friend is waiting.

"What the actual fuck," one of the boys mutters to himself when he feels Yuri smiling into his palm, the other using his free hand to lace his fingers through the strands of hair by her scalp, giving a less-than-gentle tug. "She's gone fucking mad,"

"Listen, enough fucking around," the third boy speaks up, taking those few steps towards her so that he towers over her threateningly. He looks at the two other boys gripping onto her tight. "My head kills like hell, I need to go home. Can we just finish this bitch off and get going?"

"Well then," the boy holding onto Yuri's hair, using it as leverage to tug her head back sharply, baring her neck and causing a soft, muffled cry escape her lips. "Go ahead and _finish her off,_ "

Yuri stills.

Fear seeps it's way into her bones.

Where the girl was thin and short, the boy is strong, well built and tall, and appears indifferent to whether she's hurt or not.

Yuri begins to struggle, and there's an explosion of shouting, yelling screaming, but none of it matters.

When he punches her, all she sees is black.  
  
  


  
  
  


_"Shit, she's so fucking out of it."_

_Yuri feels like she's floating. Her hands are held up in the air, something soft brushing against her fingertips like she's touching the clouds. She hums blissfully to herself, not recognising the song that's playing but singing and dancing to it regardless. She's drowning in the crowd, in the hot, tightly packed bodies in the humid room, but to her it's like it's her on her own, just her and the music and that wonderful sensation that's rushing through her bloodstream._

_"What the fuck did you give her?"_

_Yuri lets out a euphoric laugh at nothing in particular, for some reason finding immense joy in the way the cheap strobe lighting paints her skin weird looking colours, holding out her arms to examine them. It's like she's glowing. She giggles delightedly._

_"Shit, it wasn't me, but you know there's rounds of ecstasy going around. I saw her take it, man she was so fucking desperate,"_

_Someone's dancing with her. Yuri doesn't know who it is, everything is just a blur of saturated, neon colours, exploding behind her eyelids each time she closes her eyes. The person is pressed up against her back, and their warmth is a comfort, so she welcomes it, tipping her head back and letting out an enchanted sigh. The heavy bass thrums through her entire body, all of her senses heightened and making everything feel so fucking good._

_"Molly? You're kidding. I don't think she's ever even touched a drop of drink before, it's gonna send her up the fucking walls._

_"I think it already has,"_

_Someone is leading her somewhere. Maybe it's the person from before, maybe it's not, it's not really something that passes into Yuri's line of thought. She'd been having fun dancing, enjoying the race of adrenaline, the way her skin sparked each time someone touched her, but the person holding onto her hand holds it tight, and the pressure sends delectable tingles up through her body._

_She's lead into a room, she hears voices, and they sound so good in her ears that she lets out a soft sigh. The music is muffled but still loud, and it's slightly colder compared to the sticky heat of the front room. There's more person than one, all talking in hushed voices, but Yuri doesn't pay them any mind. She's more focused on the fact that the bright, pretty colours from before aren't spattered on her skin anymore._

_She's lifted up onto something, unawares to her, something cold and hard that she's gently guided to sit down on. She kicks her legs like a child absent-mindedly, humming the song that had been playing earlier that she can't remember the words to anymore._

_Something brushes against the hem of her shirt._

_She frowns, looking down at it like it had offended her, as if by magic as it's slowly peeled off her burning skin. She's grateful for it, actually, she'd been sweltering from dancing so much. She makes a move to thank whatever kind individual had done her such a favour, but before she can, she's lain back on the cold surface._

_There's a popping sound, and it briefly crosses Yuri's mind that someone's hands are on her, where exactly she can't pinpoint, but all welcomes the soft touch regardless. A liquid is poured on her stomach, on her collarbones, all over her torso, and it feels so good she could cry, the cool sensation running rivers down her skin. It smells strong, toxic, yet sweet and inviting. Something is put in between her teeth, which she takes without question. Her tongue darts out to taste it, and she grimaces at the bitter taste. It's a wedge of something citrus, like lemon or.. lime. The situation seems oddly familiar, but Yuri's too drowsy to put a finger on it._

_People are touching her, running their hands over her, giving her attention, and Yuri basks in it all. It's hot and wet and too much and no enough all at the same time, and everything feels and looks so otherwordly part of her wonders if perhaps she's died, and this is what heaven feels like. If so, Yuri wonders why she didn't die long ago._

_Somewhere, there's a flash. Then two, then three. And one that prolongs for so long she forgets it's there._

_Yuri closes her eyes, and loses herself in the motions._

Yuri doesn't really know how she ended up at Yena's place.

Everything's this bruised, aching, dark haze, everything blurring together once she cracks open her eyelids. Her muscles are stiff and sore, and when she attempts to raise her head she feels like it's about to rip itself off of her neck. Her senses begin to make their way back to her, excruciatingly slow, and she blinks dryly to bring the room into focus. She's lying down, lain on something hard like a table, and Yuri can practically hear her spine wail pitifully because of the harsh, rigid position.

It's dark, but once her eyes get used to the inky black, she realises that she's in Yena's front room.

Footsteps approach, loud and heavy echoing off the hollow walls, and Yena steps into the room. Yuri can just about see her from where she's lain, heart jumping sporadically inside her chest at the sight of her. She aches to reach out and touch her, to be close to her in some shape or form, to have Yena's eyes on her for even just a fraction of a moment. She drives herself insane, conjuring up all these scenarios inside her head within a matter of moments, picking through each one as if they were real. She feels herself twitch on the table top, limbs jerking minutely from the sheer desperation to have Yena close, from the excitement roaring through her veins from having her in her line of sight.

Yena's holding a candle, Yuri realises amidst her infatuation-induced haze, walking slowly across the room to place it at the foot of the table on the floor, and it's then that Yuri sees that there's a number of candles dotted around the room, long and white with wax dripping down the sides. The flames flicker and writhe like they're trying to escape the clutches of the wick, casting dim, irregular glows of amber onto Yena's face almost hauntingly. It's then that Yena finally looks at her, and if Yuri could she'd jump with excitement.

Yena gives her a look, smug and satisfied and relaxed and horribly attractive. "You're awake,"

Yuri nods eagerly, trying to sit up to get a better look at her, but feeling like there's bags of wet sand that are tied to her body that weigh her down. "You found me,"

Yena slowly walks around the side of the table until she's by Yuri's side, leaning down and gripping onto the edge of the table so that Yuri can make out the soft, yet defined features of her face. "I told you I always would, didn't I?" her voice is quieter than usual, now more husky than sweet, and the sound alone sends Yuri into a daze. Yena leans in closer, and Yuri has to physically hold her breath. "You stood up for yourself against that girl," she states, words just above a whisper, jet black hair falling over her shoulders and brushing against Yuri's collarbones. "She wasn't looking too good, hm?" she reaches out to run a finger down Yuri's shoulder, leaning in so close now that Yuri can feel the cold of her breath. "I'm so proud of you,"

Yuri allows herself to close her eyes, letting the feeling of Yena's praise slowly wash over her, relishing and savouring the sensation.

Yena moves away from her then, just visible in the dark, and Yuri opens her eyes to see where she's going. Yena moves around the room like a whirlwind, adjusting things and cupping flames and whispering inaudibly beneath her breath all the while. Yuri simply watches her with heavy eyelids, not really registering what's going on or what Yena's doing, more so basking in her presence and wallowing in how slaked it makes her.

It takes a short while, but eventually Yena returns her attention to her, coming up by her side again and taking Yuri's hand in both of her own. She looks Yuri in the eye, crouching down so they're level with one another, her obsidian eyes piercing and gleaming in the low light. Yuri peers at them, entranced, only now just realising how dark they are. They're like pools of lead poured in rings around her irises, shifting and darting and constantly drinking in information.

Yena speaks to her in that same, quiet, low tone as before. "Do you trust me?"

Yuri doesn't even think about her reply, responding to Yena's question too fast. "With anything," she doesn't surprise herself anymore with how much she means it.

Yena leers at her, eyes hooded, leaning back a little, her face only visible from the tip of her nose downwards, the rest shrouded by darkness. Yuri watches entranced as her lips move around unfamiliar words, still holding onto Yuri's hand, moving it so that she's holding it in her lap.

Yuri has to close her eyes with all the emotions, all the sensations flooding her system, from the stifling, sweltering heat of the candles, to the deranging touch of Yena's hands on her own. She lets herself sink into the table, slowly feeling everything overcome her. Everything lulls to a dull hum, all the pain, all the excitement. The itch that once plagued her mind is completely gone.

"You love me, don't you?" Yena's voice sounds far off. Sounds like she knows she's right.

"I love you,"

Yena doesn't say anything in response.

Instead, a sharp, piercing pain perforates its way though the palm of Yuri's hand, the hand that Yena's holding. Yuri lets out a surprised hiss, her body jolting with the smarting smother of agony, her toes scrunching and teeth grinding, face contorting into an expression that screams displeasure. The pain is like a needle had been gently guided through her skin, past the tissue and muscle inside of her and slowly weaving a thread through her metacarpals. She heaves out a breath, trying to retain her composure, everything suddenly too hot and too tight. She kicks out her legs like a child would, shame washing over her but not caring enough to do anything about it.

Somewhere in the back of her mind, she registers that Yena is soothingly caressing her wrist with her thumb. She's shushing her gently, so Yuri presses her lips together tight to try and stay quiet for her. She tilts her head up so that she can have a clearer view of whatever's going on, shaking her head insistently to try and convey to her that she can't handle the pain, blubbering pathetically with pearlescent tears slipping silently from her ducts. Yena's attention is focused on Yuri's palm, staring at it intently. In the dark, Yuri's just about able to see a glint of dark red, and realises with a lurch of her stomach that she's bleeding profusely, grimy garnet coloured liquid spilling from her open flesh and onto the carpet.

Yuri feels like she's going to throw up.

Yena sets Yuri's hand down on her lap, and there's a sharp flash of silver. Yena lets out a quick hiss of her own, followed by a string of curses, and then a low hum of satisfaction. She raises her own palm for Yuri to see, and Yuri feels queasy once she sees that there's a deep puncture hole in her skin too, matching Yuri's. It pumps out a steady flow of red, trickling down her wrist and tainting the carpet red.

Without speaking, Yena picks up Yuri's hand, and presses their palms together. Yuri's unable to stop herself from letting out a cry of anguish, the pain sheer and coursing through her body like someone had shoved a burning hot rod down her throat and pushed it down the length of her spine. Their blood flows together, Yuri able to feel it, Yena's blood pushing it's way into her veins and vice versa. It's sickening, it's fucking vile, but for some reason-

For some reason, Yuri wants more of it.

Yena keeps their hands clasped together, and leans forward to kiss her. She kisses her hard, aggressive, biting and holding onto her so tight Yuri can barely breathe. But Yuri doesn't care, welcoming each touch and whining desperately each time Yena's lips breach her own. Yena's whispering words to her, Yuri too out of it to register anything she's saying, but she manages to catch two of them.

"You're _mine_ ,"

Now, they're back at Yena's place again, in a different room this time. The room is completely empty, no furniture, no carpet, no lights, nothing. Just dark walls, a stone floor, curtains drawn shut, and the girl that Yuri had punched bound by the limbs lying like a frightened bird in the centre of the floor.

The girl screams her own throat raw, writhes and squirms against her restraints like an insect trapped beneath a flowerpot, limbs bound to her chest in a position akin to what a spider makes when it feels threatened. Her eyes are screwed shut, doing nothing to stop the seemingly endless streams of tears that pour from her ducts like a jug of water that refills itself, running irregular tracts down her face depending on how she's lying down. Some run down her temples and into her hair, others across the bridge of her nose.

Yena is stood on the opposite side of the room to Yuri, by the door, staring at the girl absent-mindedly as if she were a sleeping animal in the cage in the zoo. Yena's back is leaned up against the wall casually, an amused glint to her dark eyes as the girl continues to thrash and flail uselessly.

Yuri watches her, totally blank. If anything, she's more focused on Yena than anything else.

Yena takes a few steps towards the girl, boots heavy on the bare floor, before she crouches down and threads her fingers into the girl's hair. The girl silences, quivering spasmodically and gazing at her with wide, fearful eyes. Yena gives the girl's hair a sharp tug, forcing her head back, then to the side, inspecting her from different angles. The girl cries out because of it lamentably, lips bitten red and whimpers a blubbered-out mess. "What were some of the things she called you?" she murmurs, voice dangerously quiet, and Yuri knows the question is directed at her.

"Worthless. Nobody. Bitch," Yuri could go on, but she figures three's enough.

Yena hums lowly, drawn out like she wants this to last, before finally letting the girl go, her head flopping unceremoniously back onto her chest like a rag doll. "Worthless bitch," she muses, ruffling at the long, midnight coloured strands of her hair. She leans in close then, whispering to the girl quietly: "Suits you,"

Yena looks up at Yuri then, and Yuri could explode from how overwhelmed that alone makes her feel. Yena's gaze is hooded, yet dangerous, screaming peril, as she crooks a finger in Yuri's direction, gesturing her to come forward. Mindlessly, Yuri does as she's told, walking over and crouching down next to her.

"What were some of the things she did to you?" Yena asks her softly, reaching out and gently carding a hand through Yuri's hair. The touch is so soft and gentle and loving, and it's far too easy for Yuri to picture that that's actually the case.

Yuri stares at the girl for a moment, and in an act of desperation, the girl clings to her gaze, her eyes are imploring, begging, yet all Yuri can think about is all the times that she herself looked at the girl like that, and was met with no remorse. "Please, Yuri-"

A resounding slap echoes of the bare walls, and Yuri holds her breath. Her eyes dart over to Yena, who's completely still, and realises after a few seconds that her right palm is stinging dully, and the girl's cheek is pinkening to the shade of strawberry milk.

Yena next to her hums again, a habit of hers that she seems to have, sounding pleased. "You're a fast learner," she murmurs into Yuri's ear, and Yuri's knees almost buckle as Yena begins to place soft, slow kisses down the side of her neck. Each one is like a detonation of delectation inside of Yuri, each touch Yena places on her skin feeling like being wrapped in velvet and satin and drowning in ecstasy. Yena's lips graze their way back up her neck again, feather-light, reaching her earlobe and gently taking it between her teeth. Yuri shudders. "What sort of things did she do to you?"

Yuri has a hard time thinking straight, one of Yena's hands returning to her hair, combing through it with her fingers mesmerisingly. "She... was always texting me. Sending me pictures. I think... shit," her mind becomes a chaotic mess as Yena begins to make work of her jaw. "I think she- she was the one who uploaded the video,"

Yuri's eyes can't help but flick down to the girl, who's staring up at them with a vivid range of emotions; expressions ranging from disturbed to sickened to petrified.

Yena pulls away from her, and a part of Yuri sinks at the loss of her physical touch. "And what do you think is the best way to ensure that she can't do something like that to you again?" Her voice is so quiet, so mellow it's spellbinding, and Yuri blinks rapidly to retain her focus and think.

Once upon a time, Yuri probably would've answered with destroying her phone, and even then she would've protested, insisting that it would be too extreme of an action to take. Now, it's only the easy way out, and still full of loopholes. Yuri knows this girl, she's got so much money she could sleep in it, and it wouldn't be an issue whatsoever for her to purchase a new one.

Yuri's eyes slowly drift down towards the girl's hands, bound against her chest, specifically, her thumb.

The girl always texted with her right thumb. Yuri only knows because it's such a common sight.

A sickeningly excited sensation swarms inside of her, overcoming her senses and blinding her to reason, suddenly full to the brim with a desperate craving for revenge, a rushing thirst to fulfil the vendetta she's been hiding for years now.

"I could love you, you know," Yena's voice seems to come from all around her. "If you did this. I could,"

The thought makes Yuri's eyes roll up into her head, and she makes her decision without a second thought. A flash of silver comes into her line of sight - the knife that Yena had used to pierce both their palms. Yena holds it up in the dim light, and Yuri sees that it's still stained with both of their blood. Not breaking eye contact, achingly slow, Yena brings the flat of the blade to her lips. Yuri watches her as she kisses the blood off the sharply-edged silver, the sliver of her tongue visible every so often that makes something hot bubble inside of Yuri. It isn't long before Yena is handing the knife over to her, expression a mixture of playful and deranged.

"Do it,"

Yuri grips the knife tightly in her hand, and turns to face the girl. She doesn't look her in the eye, doesn't look at her face at all, and reminds herself of everything she's ever done to her. Reminds herself of the morning she woke up with her messages flooded with screenshots of that video as she takes the girl's hand. Reminds herself of the time she'd spread rumours about Yuri's family within a matter of moments through her thick web of connections online as she holds the knife to her skin. Reminds herself of the time the girl had laughed in her face after someone had told her to die as she presses down.

Skin pierces softer than Yuri ever could have imagined. The sharp blade cuts into her skin as if it were a tough dough, the skin whitening around the area she's putting pressure on, before teeming with beads of red. The girl screams, dramatic even with the first shallow cut, but Yuri hardly hears her. She finds herself entranced by the way the knife breaches her skin with smooth, practised ease, sleekly tearing the skin cells apart to reveal deep layers of scarlet tissue.

Yuri keeps the same wrist movement,aback and forth, back and forth sawing motion, pressing down harder each time. The girl gargles in her ear, retching and screaming and pleading and yuri hears none of it. She vaguely registers that Yena has moved to hold the girl still, her foot placed on the girl's stomach to prevent her from thrashing about.

It doesn't take long before Yuri meets a hard wall of resistance, solid compared to the ease of tissue and muscle before.

The bone.

Gritting her teeth and gripping onto the hilt so hard her knuckles turn white, Yuri resumes.

There's blood everywhere. It coats Yuri's hands, her clothes, spilling all over the girl, the strong metallic stench permeating the room and making her dizzy, like breathing in a haze-inducing gas of some sort. It makes everything slippery, the blood, Yuri's grip slipping on the hilt every so often, but it only drives her to grip it tighter.

The bone is beyond difficult to get through. She can feel the blade slowly shaving its way through, but it requires immense amounts of exertion, of strength, and Yuri begins to perspire, only making things slicker and harder to work with. It seems to take forever, but eventually, somehow, the thin bone snaps in two with a satisfying crack.

Yuri kneels back on her heels, letting the blade dangle from the girl's thumb, panting, and wipes the sweat off of her forehead with a blood-coated hand. She finally looks at the girl, and sees that she's long since passed out; blood caked into her skin and mouth hanging open mid-scream. The girl's thumb is a severed, stumpy wreck of ripped skin and blood and muscle and snapped veins, clinging onto her hand for dear life by those last few under layers that Yuri still has to cut through. If Yuri were still in her right state of mind, she probably would've thrown up long ago.

"C'mon," Yena urges her, her voice like honey. "You're almost there,"

Those words and the words from earlier are all the motivation Yuri needs to take the girl's hands into her hold again, gripping onto the knife tightly. Taking in a breath, she raises the knife just above the last cut she needs to make, before swiping down in one smooth, clean motion.

The knife clutters to the ground, and the girl's thumb falls to the ground with a squelching thunk, pooled in its own blood. Yuri stares at it for a few moments, breathing hard and ragged, fingers twitching around nothing and head jolting spasmodically. She'd just cut a girl's thumb off.

But-

But now, now Yena will love her.

A too-wide grin smeared on her lips, Yuri turns around to find her. "Yen-"

Yena is right in front of her, expression almost bored, gripping tight onto Yuri's right shoulder. On Yuri's left side of her stomach, an intense, sharp pain blooms like she'd been shot with an arrow. She lets out a soundless scream, nothing coming out of her mouth except a shaky breath of air, and with quivering movements, she looks down.

Yena grips onto the knife tightly, the blade embedded to the hilt into Yuri's side.

Yuri looks back up at her, still shaking violently, trying to search for one thing: Why.

It's like Yena can read her mind. "You don't really feel anything anymore," she mutters. "You can't feel anything. You're useless to me now," she twists the knife, and her expression twists into something sickeningly delighted when Yuri screams. "Your thoughts tasted good while they were still bitter, I'll give you that," she tilts her head in the direction of the girl. "What you just did there? I haven't fed on something like that in a long time," she purses her lips, like she's thinking, still twisting the knife inside Yuri's gut, excruciatingly slow, and black dots dance in front of Yuri's eyes. "But now? You've got emotional range of a rock," she leans in so close, and now, even after everything, there's still a flicker of hope in Yuri's mind that Yena will kiss her. "So I don't need you anymore,"

She takes the knife out of Yuri's gut, sharp and controlled, not an ounce of hesitance in her movements. The knife drips onto the floor, just before Yena holds the knife over her chest. She tilts her head to the side. "I'll make you divine,"

And just like all her other promises, Yena shatters it once she plunges the blade into Yuri's heart.

**Author's Note:**

> and that's the end oops. if you (for some strange reason) enjoyed, please leave a kudos/comment! I'd really appreciate it!
> 
> [twitter](https://mobile.twitter.com/glitzyena)  
> [curious cat](https://curiouscat.me/glitzyena)


End file.
